


How Much He Means To Me

by Lunarium



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Declarations Of Love, Emotional Overload - can't stop crying, Gap Filler, M/M, Medical Procedures, Near Death, Near Death Experiences, References to Illness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-21 10:08:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,863
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16574459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunarium/pseuds/Lunarium
Summary: As Keith lays in critical condition following the battle with a mysterious Robeast, Shiro recounts just much Keith means to him. Set right at the end of Season 7.





	How Much He Means To Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Val_Creative](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Val_Creative/gifts).



People flashed past Shiro, their faces and form blurred in their haste. He worked on steading his breath under the blaring alarm somewhere high above his head. While he was normally in control of his emotions, now he found himself unravelling; blood and shrapnel still clung to his spacesuit. His mind hardly registered the voice blasting in the overhead—“Rapid Response Team, Room A3!”—as it replayed, as if cursed and unable to stop. It wasn’t officially a code, but the threat of it was there. The team was needed on hand in case Keith crashed, and in that moment he was dangerously close. 

Constant and unmerciful also were the images flashing through his mind of hours before: witnessing the five lions falling from the sky, the trembles of the earth, fishing the Blue Lion from the depths of the ocean, running past as they pulled a bleeding Hunk to the sounds of his parents crying, breaking through glass and uncooperative doors in order to get to Keith—Keith!— _Keith!_

He had to find some place to be alone for a time. He could not endure putting on a brave act any further. Finding a storage room, Shiro locked the door behind him, and the tears finally rolled down, heavy and thick, his throat vibrating as he sobbed. He threw his head down and squeezed his eyes so he would not have to look at the blood on his suit. 

He had watched each of the paladins rushed to the Galaxy Garrison’s medical center emergency department—Allura nearly drowned under the water, Hunk bruised and bloodied, Lance with burns and a mild concussion, Pidge with broken ribs—but nothing was compared to the bloodied heap that Shiro had personally pulled from the cockpit of the Black Lion, nothing like holding his best friend in his arms and feeling the immense guilt crush him, crashing down on him with excruciating rage and shame that it was all his fault, _his damn fault_ , for ever putting the idea in Keith’s head that he could learn to become a pilot. 

Coran found his hiding place. Shame filled him again, hiding in here like a frightening rabbit and not facing reality, facing the facts that his best friend was about to die. He unlocked the door and welcomed Coran in. One look—at the blood on Shiro’s suit, on the tears streaked down Shiro’s face, on how bloodshot his eyes had become—and the joke Coran had prepared to comfort him with died in his throat. 

“I’m so sorry, Shiro.” 

They embraced.

*

Reports came over the next couple hours of the other paladin’s conditions: all good news, save for one. Even when all the others had been moved to the main department, one remained in the surgical ward.

Keith was taking the longest to recover. Too long. 

They had initially brought him to the recovery ward; by then his condition was not beyond a “serious but stable” before he bled out of his wounds and was rushed back to surgery. No one had experience with just how sensitive Galra were to blood thinners, even in the tiny amount in the IV flush which had been administered previously. That small amount was what had caused the bleeding. 

Shiro had stared at the phone at the receptionist’s desk, waiting to jump at any moment it rang from the surgical unit. 

Doctors were paged, and more passed Shiro by in the brightly-lit corridor. 

Shiro found himself face-planted into Coran’s chest, sniffing back the tears as Coran patted his back; although he could offer little words to comfort him. He was also worried for Keith. 

Who wasn’t? Who from the Atlas hadn’t heard Shiro’s anguished cries when he dug out Keith from the Black Lion, when they ran over to him, when they saw the blood that smeared everywhere on his suit? Shiro himself remembered little from then, couldn’t recall when or how he was pulled away from Keith so that the medics would take him to the facility. He just remembered the blood and Keith lying lifeless in his arms. 

More hours passed. Shiro’s mind played scenarios of what was taking place in the operating room, each fantasy more bleak than the previous. He repeated some of Sam Holt’s wise words to himself over and over in hopes of finding calm, but it was futile. 

Sam himself had shown up to try to comfort him. Pidge was doing well, if a bit shaken up. Shiro had urged Sam not to tell Pidge about Keith’s condition. 

Coran remained with him, slept with his head against the wall in the waiting area as Shiro slumped against him. 

In the middle of the night an exhausted physician approached Shiro with an update. Shiro’s heart plummeted at the look in her eyes, and sensing his mounting horror, the physician raised both of her hands. 

Critical but stable, Keith had been relocated to the ICU. Coran placed a comforting hand on Shiro’s shoulder as he asked if they could visit him. 

While visiting hours were normally not until the morning, being the Captain of the Atlas had its privileges, although it wasn’t something to celebrate about as Shiro was led down the eerily-lit halls to Keith’s room. He thanked the physician and sat beside him. 

“Keith…” 

His voice, cracked and full of sorrow, spoke the name as barely a whisper as not to disturb him. He reached out before setting his arm back down. His fingers rattled so badly he could barely hold onto the bedside rails. The silence of the room passed save for the humming of the ventilator hooked to Keith. Shiro’s eyes could not stray from the bandages that wrapped around his friend’s head. 

“I’m so sorry,” Coran said softly nearby. 

Coran had been with him when he pulled out Keith. Although Coran would have gone to get Allura if he could (and Shiro would not have blamed him), he was simply too far from where Allura had landed. Keith had been the closest victim to them. And Coran’s face had mirrored Shiro’s own fears as he held his lifeless body: _we’ve lost him._

_I lost him. My best friend._

Shiro squeezed Keith’s hand. 

“I…contacted Krolia earlier,” Coran said hesitantly. “When you nodded off. She should be heading towards Earth in a few quintants.” 

Shiro nodded. “Thank you, Coran. You should be with Allura.” 

Coran shook his head with a smile. “She’s doing well. Besides, she’s resting right now, and someone else needs my company.” 

Shiro lowered his head and nodded. “Thank you,” he said again. “And I am sorry for my…earlier outbursts.” 

“The crying? Ah, Shiro! I had flooded the family basement when ol’ Hieronymus Wimbelton passed away!” 

Shiro tensed. Coran meant well, but it only served to remind Shiro of all those he had lost: Ulaz, countless rebel allies, a wall monument with names he recognized, classmates and friends…a former lover. 

The thought of Keith’s cold body under the ground was too much to bear. 

“I’m sorry,” Coran said again, realizing how his words had affected him. He placed an arm around his shoulders. Shiro leaned into Keith’s bed, watching him through a glassy window of tears. 

“You have no idea how much he means to me…”

*

“So, what are you gonna do?”

Shiro furrowed his eyebrows, pointedly keeping his eyes on fixing his hover-bike, and answered back, “I’m going on the mission.” He expected a debate, for Keith to try to convince him to stay. He had just opened up to him about the truth of the gadget around his wrist, opened up about his disease. Keith was going to see him as fragile and weak like everyone else. Like Admiral Sanda and Adam, he wasn’t going to agree with him going. 

Instead he heard Keith take a few steps closer and place a hand on his elbow. 

“I’m glad,” he said. 

Shiro frowned. Why wasn’t Keith arguing with him about staying? 

He turned back to him. The concern for him still burned in Keith’s eyes, but he was smiling. Shame burned in the pit of Shiro’s stomach. Did Keith think he needed his pity? 

“I’m not looking for—”

“You said to me before to never give up on myself,” Keith said suddenly. He beamed, looking up at Shiro with pride. “I don’t want you give up on yourself either.”

*

Coran had left the following morning, his body finally giving in to fatigue, but Shiro remained by Keith’s bedside. Alone with only the monitors’ sounds as company, Shiro watched his friend; he held his hand for comfort.

“Do you remember that day?” Shiro asked as he gently caressed Keith’s cheek. There was so little to him he could touch that wasn’t obstructed by the ventilator or bandages. “Your words touched me so much. I didn’t know I needed that light. I was so used to telling myself those words. Boosting myself, boosting others…but…you gave it to me. Thank you, Keith.”

*

Keith accompanied him to the pre-launch preparations. He would wait patiently as Shiro underwent physicals or was pumped with antibiotics for the long trip ahead.

“How do they know what vaccines and antibiotics to give you?” Keith asked when Shiro left the medical facility. “Are they expecting you to find aliens?” 

Shiro chuckled. “Not exactly, although you know we’ve found microbial life on Mars and the rings of Saturn.” 

Shiro led him towards a vast specialized swimming pool, an NBL pool. Shiro went on to explain how this was utilized to prepare astronauts for moving around in outer space. 

“The pressure prepares us for in case we need to perform an EVA.” 

Keith absorbed every word like a sponge.

*

Lance was sitting up and in the middle of a meal when Shiro and Coran stepped into his room.

“Shiro!” Lance waved from his bed and nearly upset his tray. 

Shiro put on a smile and gave a chuckle. “Looks like you’re doing better.” 

“Feeling better!” Lance said. “I got burned a few places—I’m going to get some scars on my legs—hey, you and Keith won’t be the only ones with cool scars anymore! How’re the others—how’s Allura, by the way? I made her something if you don’t mind delivering it to her…” 

It was Coran’s idea to visit the other paladins, mainly to get Shiro’s mind off Keith’s unwavering condition, and so he could waddle in some good news for a change. 

Allura was doing well; Romelle was already with her, as were the Space Mice. Her eyes shone with soft fondness when Shiro presented her with Lance’s card. 

One of Allura’s lungs had collapsed upon impact, and the drowning had not made things any better, but Altean physiology was proving resilient even in the face of pneumothorax. 

“I’m afraid without the healing pod, this may take a little longer than usual,” Allura said as she pet one of the Space Mice. “But we are expecting a full recovery. How’s Lance and the others? How’s Keith?” 

Hunk’s parents were already with him when Shiro visited. Save for a bandage around his head he appeared otherwise perfectly fine. Hunk explained to Shiro and Coran that his nausea had returned, and standing and keeping balance was a little difficult for the time being. But he just needed a little bedrest and he could join them again. 

“Hey, how are the others doing? How’s Pidge, and Keith?” 

Pidge had suffered a few broken ribs, although the injuries would have been worse had she been thrown off her Lion completely (“Good thing Green and I are best pals,” Pidge had joked.) by the time they reached her, Pidge was already sitting up and surrounded by both family and fellow allies: rebel fighters. 

An uneasy feeling coiling in Shiro’s belly reminded him that the last time he had contacted these rebel fighters, it was the other him. The evil clone of himself. For a while that was the only way he could refer to the body he now inhabited. Keith had the best intentions, and being alive again and free of his illness was a feat he could never stop being grateful to Keith over, but recalling memories that were not his, remembering things his clone had done which _he_ would never have done… 

He swallowed thickly. 

“How’s Keith, by the way?” Pidge asked in a quiet voice. “I saw the explosion hit his Lion the hardest.” 

“He’s…recovering,” Coran managed with semi-convincing manner. Pidge glanced over at Shiro for confirmation, but he kept his face impassive. She didn’t press further.

*

Shiro requested from Coran to be alone the next time he stepped into Keith’s room. He slumped next to Keith and heaved a heavy sigh.

“Everyone’s worried about you,” he said softly. “ _I’m_ worried for you, Keith. I—oh no…” 

The monitor showed a decrease in blood pressure, heart rate, and breaths per minute. Shiro had his eye on that monitor for hours. He knew what Keith’s usual vitals were. Now everything was off. He reached for Keith’s hand and blanched when he found him growing cold. 

“No…Keith…”

*

“Shiro?” Keith rushed to his side as Shiro collapsed. His body slammed against the shelf, the sharp edge of a store shelf cutting into the small of his back as he let out a pained yelp.

“Shiro! What happened?” 

Keith grabbed for his arm and side without further thought of personal space. Shiro grimaced. The tightness throbbed in the middle of his chest. 

“I don’t know,” he managed. “Something’s wrong with my…”

Keith held his wrist closer for inspection. 

“It ran out of power!” he said. 

“Impossible,” Shiro gasped. He always charged it overnight, and everything has seemed fine when he left this morning. The electrostimulator device hadn’t given him the warning of low battery. Had the battery cartridge itself become eroded or corrupt? His physician had warned it could happen, and Shiro had been given some spares in such event. But they were back at home, and his muscles, including his heart, were starting to tighten. 

“It uses the same cartridge as my player!” 

Keith reached for his music player and fiddled with the opening, pulling out its cartridge before Shiro could protest. In that brief moment before the player’s screen went blank he could see the title, artist, and playlist Keith had been listening to; he recognized it as the playlist he had given Keith not too long ago. 

“You’re listening to songs for old-timers?” Shiro asked in what he hoped was an attempt to lighten the mood. It was mostly to abate his own panic. The muscles of his arm seized, his fingers tingled painfully, and his chest continued to tighten. 

Keith didn’t respond as he meticulously worked out the battery cartridge and replaced it with his own. He snapped the lid back on, and pressed a button. 

Shiro gasped as the familiar warm pulse shot through him, relaxing his muscles. He sighed and leaned back, willing the tears to not fall. He squeezed his eyes shut. 

That was too close. _That_ sort of pain was too sudden. His physician had warned him, but he still had a few more years. He— 

“Hey, it’s okay,” Keith said gently. 

“The launch is in three days,” Shiro said, huffing back a sob. “What if this happens again?” 

He opened his eyes to see nothing but utmost fondness in Keith’s gaze. 

“You’re going to be fine, Shiro. You’ll make it.”

*

Keith’s heart rate and breath kept dropping with each passing minute. Shiro sniffled out a soft, “No,” and held him closer. A tiny part of his brain ordered him to run, seek out a medic to help, but he stayed put. Seeking medics would mean he could not remain near Keith. He had to help Keith himself.

“Keith…you’re going to be okay,” he said softly. The monitor showed a heart slowing; the corners of Keith’s lips turned blue. He was slipping right in Shiro’s arms. A few more minutes and the monitor will register a code. The room will fill with medics and Shiro would be ushered out, be torn away from holding Keith, barricaded from touching him as medics try in vain to bring him back. 

His injuries had been so grievous; how could anyone bring Keith back? 

“No…please open your eyes,” Shiro begged through unshed tears. “Please come back.”

*

Keith was the only one with him on that special day. Sam and Matt Holt were with their own family, and it felt weird to trespass on a private moment, even if they did consider him as one of the Holts. Shiro’s own family were too distant, in both the physical and emotional sense.

And besides, after everything—after all the good times he shared with Keith, and after all the times Keith stuck with him after Adam and he broke it off—Shiro felt no one else deserved a spot next to him at the launch site more than Keith. 

“Wow. So, this is it,” Keith said, his eyes never leaving the shuttle. He had not pried his eyes away once as Shiro rattled on about the mission to Kerberos, about the path they were going to take, the last-minute preps, what Shiro was looking forward to most… 

Shiro nodded and turned towards him, noticing a somber look. 

“You seem down.” 

“I wish I was going with you,” Keith confessed. 

Shiro smiled. “Maybe the next time I go to space, you’ll be with me.” 

Keith met his eyes, and Shiro knew what they were both thinking. As if to rudely remind him, a muscle in his arm tensed, immediately relaxed by an impulse sent by his device. 

Keith smiled, surprising Shiro with how soft, comforting, and encouraging it was. “Yeah, I can’t wait!” 

“Shiro!” 

He turned around to see Matt waving for him. 

“Looks like they’re ready for us,” Shiro said. “This is it. We’re put in our suits, we get into the shuttle, and we’re off. This will be the last chance I see you until we come back.” 

Before he could extend a hand to shake Keith’s, Keith lunged towards him and squeezed his arms around him tightly. 

_Okay, a hug_ , Shiro thought, smiling. They were friends now. Best friends, even. He returned it, letting himself enjoy the embrace, the warm comfort. There wasn’t any guarantee he would return in the same shape as before. Months to and from Kerberos, and Shiro’s own peak health was ticking away. By the time they come back Keith may already have graduated, and Shiro’s health would be declining rapidly by then. 

If Keith was thinking this, he was trying to hide it. Either the thought of being away from Shiro for the next several months—possibly the next couple years—or the thought of Shiro dying terrified him. 

“Best of luck.” Keith’s words were muffled with his face smashed against Shiro’s chest. He looked up and smiled. “I’ll be waiting here for you. And ready to go on another adventure!” 

“Keith, I might not be in the best shape then—”

Keith held on tighter. “You will be.”

*

Three little words. Spoken with such confidence. It had planted itself then, and only grew from there, a slow blossom throughout the years since. It settled in his heart and throbbed mightily whenever he became _aware_ of the little things, the way Keith protected him (but wasn’t being overbearingly annoying about it), the way he made him feel he could conquer, he could persevere. His soul was like a hearth to warm and sooth tense muscles and alit a fire and desire within him; three more words and things only kept expanding, escalating into a crashing realization.

Crashing. 

It all came crashing. Full blossom. Full realization. 

Crashing. 

Shiro sucked in a shuddered breath. 

Keith was crashing. 

“No,” he wept. “No! Please, Keith, no! Don’t go! You’re going to be fine, Keith! Everyone’s asking about you! They want to see you. _I_ want to see you…I…I miss you. I miss you, Keith! I—I can’t lose you! I love you! You’re what kept me alive all those years! You’re the reason I’m still alive—I can’t lose you! You’ve become my dearest! NO!” 

The sound of the flatline rang in his head. He gripped Keith tighter. 

“No, no, no—please, Keith! _Please, fight it! FOR ME!_!” 

He buried his face in Keith’s chest as uncontrollable sobs wrecked his body. He was too late. Realizing his feelings for his best friend had come on too late. Snippets of his time with Keith blurred in his mind, tormenting him, and his grip on Keith tightened—soon, the medics would be in, they were going to pry him away from Keith, pry him away from the man he had grown to love deeply—

 _Please, come back! Keith, come back to me!_

A sudden wave of soothing sensation swept through his right arm, similar to when he had on the device except the sensation was more cool rather than warm. He looked up and gasped. His hand was was giving the same glow he had seen on the Atlas, on the Castle of Lions, around Allura…

_The crystal…_

He placed his right hand over Keith’s brow, silently begging any deity listening to answer, when suddenly the monitor blared back into life, showing first a blip, then a steady heart rate. Keith illuminated in light blue light in Shiro’s arms; his chest arched from the bed, and one hand flew to his mouth, searching for and tugging out the ventilator. 

Tossing it to the floor, Keith heaved a deep breath. “Shiro…” 

“Keith…” Shiro’s voice cracked. To hear Keith’s voice again after almost losing him. He swept in and kissed him without thinking, and Keith returned it, weak yet hungry. 

“Shiro…” 

Shiro kissed the top of his head, his temples, his cheeks, thanking the gods and the ancients Allura and Coran always spoke of for Keith’s safety. 

“You’re here,” Shiro said softly to him. “I love you.” 

The door burst open as medics rushed in before pausing. Shiro smiled proudly. 

“He’s fine,” he announced. 

In his arms, Keith had fallen back into slumber, but his face shone, peaceful and free from pain.

*

When Keith opened his eyes again, his mother was there. So was Kolivan. It was morning. And the room was different from before. Keith was sure of it. He remembered waking up before, and it was in Shiro’s arms. They had kissed.

Maybe it had happened. Maybe it didn’t. Shiro, he was told, was delivering a speech in memoriam to all their allies lost in the battle since Sendak’s attack. So that’s why he wasn’t here right now, but Keith had a feeling Shiro was with him the entire time he was here. Something in his mother’s eyes confirmed the same. 

Keith smiled. Shiro would be visiting afterwards, Krolia told him, giving him a knowing gaze. Keith was going to see his best friend—his dearest friend—again and there was nothing better; and if the kiss had indeed happened…

Keith smiled and laid back as he counted down the seconds until the door opened to announce Shiro’s arrival.


End file.
